


The Rightful King

by SansryaFangirl



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Sansa Stark Doesn't Marry Ramsay Bolton, BAMF Sansa Stark, Brother/Brother Incest, Genderswap, King Sansa, M/M, Male Arya Stark, Male Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Sansrya, The King in The North, The Stark Brothers, Winterfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansryaFangirl/pseuds/SansryaFangirl
Summary: Through a twist of fate, Sansa Stark was born Lord Rodrick Stark. After Robb's brutal murder at the Red Wedding, will he take his true throne?Sansrya genderbent.Stark Brothers! AUMale Sansa/Male Arya gay incest.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Sansa Stark
Kudos: 12





	The Rightful King

The final battle had approached very quickly.

Rodrick Stark reflected on the past. He was the third eldest of the Stark sons, raised to serve his brothers and little else. While it was true he was trained at arms by Ser Rodrick, he was jealous of Robb his whole life. He gripped Red Rain, a Valyrian Steel prize taken during the reconquest of the North and a furious savage duel against a Drumm raider. 

Rodrick was left in Winterfell when the War of the Five Kings began in earnest, as Lord and Castellan of his homeland while Robb did all the fighting and Jon eventually became Lord Commander. When Theon betrayed them, Rodrick led the exodus along with his little brothers to Last Hearth where Rodrick was able to rouse them into rebellion. Robb was murdered at the Red Wedding which annhilated most of the Northern army, yet Rodrick was able to slowly unite the survivors under his own banner.

"My brother is dead," he had said to SmallJon Umber and a courtyard full of men loyal to Last Hearth. "Butchered by cowards. I mean to pay them back. If you are a man, shall you follow me?" A great shout erupted from the courtyard, and soon enough, Lord Rodrick marched at the head of some eight thousand Northerners to Winterfell. Joined at Winterfell by Jon Snow, his half brother. Rodrick rode up to Ramsay to declare war. 

"Ah...Lord Stark. How nice to see you again. But surely you do realize you are outmatched? One taste of battle, and I assure you you will cry home to your dead mother."

Jon nearly tried to attack him then and there, but Rodrick held up his hand. "Pay him no mind brother. Lord Bolton, you will never touch my family again." he hissed. "I am here to reclaim my home and you are here to keep what you stole. Thus, thousands of men here, the ones carrying your flayed banners, they have no need to die. There's no need for a siege. Only a duel between two men. Let's end this with you against me." Rodrick gripped Red Rain on his belt tightly. 

Ramsay stared at him increduously before erupting in sadistic laughter as did Lord Karstark.

"You, boy? I will gladly kill you, boy, then the rest of your traitorous band. You don't have the numbers to take Winterfell, and you certainly don't have Ice. All I have to do is wait and your army crumbles. Once I have your head of course."

Rodrick glared at him, but then shook his head amusedly, "No. You shall die tomorrow, Lord Bolton. Sleep well, for in the morning, we finish this."

"We have the numbers if we can force them to come out from those walls. I think we should keep half our strength in reserve, within the forest, so that they underestimate us."

"We shouldnt disrupt our formation. They have us beat in terms of horse while we hold the advantage in infantry."

"I agree but our mission is to take Winterfell. And we need to do so now, before the snows come. That was how Stannis lost, just a moon ago." Even now the battlefield was strewn with the fallen banners of the Fiery Stag. Now, the direwolf of House Stark would fly again, for the first time since Theon Greyjoy had seized it. It would be always Rodrick's greatest regret that he had allowed that to happen. "Once Ramsay falls, get the ladders to the walls and get our men over them. The gate will fall within an hour."

"Do you think you can take him, brother?" asked Jon. 

"I've faced worse when we went from castle to castle, liberating the North from the yoke of the Ironborn and Boltons. One last castle and the North is ours again. If I can kill Lord Bolton, it will throw their army into disarray."

"If you can kill him....it's too risky, Rod." Jon warned, using Rodrick's nickname. 

"Trust me brother, the direwolf shall fly again." He put a reassuring hand on Jon's arm. "But if I do lose...if I fall.....protect our brothers. Keep Rickon safe, and Rickard, wherever he is. 

"I will, Rod." Then Jon pulled him in for a tight loving hug. 

Daybreak dawned. Rodrick stood in his shining wolf armor, and pelts. Red Rain was drawn, steady in his chainmail'd hand. An Umber shield in the other.

"Keep your guard up. Don't underestimate him-"

"I know how to fight, Jon." Rodrick smiled sardonically. 

"As you say, brother." smirked Jon.

Slowly they approached each other, Ramsay cocky and confident in very little armor and wielding two savage axes. 

"Have you come back to say you surrender, boy?"

"...No." glared Rodrick. 

"No? Then bear witness to the final destruction of House Stark."

Suddenly, Ramsay leapt forward, raining down blow after blow with his twin axes. Rodrick was forced onto the back foot, as he tried desperately to block. The man fought like a butcher, little finesse. Rodrick was younger, and had just fought a brutal campaign across the North to retake it castle by castle, town by town. He stood at the head of a strong host of eight thousand Northmen, in addition to some Riverlords who had heard of his campaign, and joined him out of respect for his late brother, King Robb. It hadn't yet occurred to Rodrick that he was unquestionably the rightful King in the North. He had only ever thought of himself as Lord of Winterfell. Even then, he hated the idea, and would rather Jon rule. Yet Jon hated the idea even more. 

Slowly, Ramsay was tiring. Rodrick smirked, and began pressing forward using his footwork. He slashed at Ramsay whenever he noticed an opening, and eventually cut him across the leg. Ramsay snarled and continued to brutally attack, but Rodrick knew he was fading and tiring. They clashed, metal singing and clanging against each other, and clashed again. 

Ramsay missed a swing, and without hesitation, Rodrick brought his Red Rain upwards and caught Ramsay across the throat. He fell back, gasping and clutching the wound as it bled heavily.

"Agh....ugh.....you.....are so....g-grown up....."

With that was the final destruction of House Bolton. They had fought House Stark for thousands of years, yet this was the final battle and the direwolf had triumphed at last.

Sure enough, the defenders of Winterfell were confused as their leader and commander fell beneath Red Rain. Yet they were not surrendering as expected. As expected they would have to take this castle, inch by bloody inch. The Boltons and Karstarks didn't know how to respond as Rodrick gingerly stood up, then screamed "FORWAAARD!"

Led by their commander, the Stark loyalist host charged the walls of Winterfell. Despite taking wounds from Ramsay, Rodrick was able to cut through many of the defenders once they were up the walls. A Bolton soldier approached Rodrick and attempted to slash at him but suddenly Longclaw blocked the attack.

Brother! thought Rodrick as Jon helped him to his feet.

"We took the gate. They're starting to surrender, Rod." Rodrick grinned triumphantly and yelled, "To the Keep! For the North!"

"FOR THE NORTH!" answered his men in a great shout. 

That day, the Northmen fought like warriors. They fought like heroes for their true king. 

Rodrick gripped the wall of Winterfell, staring out at the forest beyond. He had finally taken it back. _For you, Robb. For you, Father. I hope I made you proud. And you, Rickard, if you're out there._

Once again, the banners of the direwolf flew in Winterfell. Rodrick, now lord of the castle, ordered his lords to convene in the Great Hall to discuss what they must do next.

"You know why you're here. All the great houses of the North gathered to my side against Ramsay and the Karstarks. We fought bravely and we won. But the true war lies yet ahead. According to my brother Jon, he fought them at Hardhome. Lord Commander Mormont saw them too. If we are to stand, we must stand together."

Lord Glover stood up, "Winter is here, Lord Rodrick. If the Maesters are right, it will be the coldest one in a thousand years. We should ride home and wait it out."

"No, that will not save you from what is to come. To the North, the dead march south. You cannot fight them alone. To the south, Cersei has crowned herself queen and she is fool enough to march this far north as she believes my brother and I to be traitors. Daenerys the Dragon Queen is reported to be sailing to Westeros as we speak to claim the throne her father sat upon. Neither will stop until the North falls beneath their feet. We must stand and fight, or we will die! My brother Robb was hailed King in the North and I try to live up to his example every day of my life."

There was silence for a long time, until Lord Manderly stood up.

"I loved your father.....I marched with him to war many a time...I loved your brother, and called him King in the North. I didn't think we'd find another king.....but I was wrong. House Manderly knows no King but the KIng in the North....who's name is Stark....You avenged the Red Wedding. You _are_ the Red Wolf, Lord Rodrick. The King...in the North!"

He drew his sword and laid it at Rodrick's feet.

"I'll have peace on those terms, my lords. Cersei can keep her damned iron chair. To seven hells with the Mad King's daughter too. I've had it with her. The Red Wolf is the King in the North!"

Jon was next. He pulled out Longclaw and began booming, "Am I your sworn sword, my king...from this day to my last?"

Rodrick, barely able to move at all, gingerly nodded.

"Lord Manderly speaks truly....It's true I did not initially commit my men to your cause because I didn't want more Glovers dyin for nothin. A man can only ask for forgiveness....House Glover will stand behind House Stark as it once did for your brother...and for eternity to come! I will stand behind Rodrick Stark...THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

Then all of the Northern and Riverman lords started pulling out their swords and chanting.

"THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH!" Jon, Rickon and Ser Davos all smiled proudly and were chanting as well. 

When it finally died down, King Rodrick began to speak.

"This was the honor of my life, my lords. I will never forget it. I will never let you, or my kingdom down as long as I have breath enough to fight for it. But if I do not...if I fall...I decree that Jon Snow shall henceforth be known as Prince Jon _Stark_ , my brother and my heir! Hear his orders as if they came from myself!"

"Prince Jon!" they yelled. "Prince Jon!" Jon looked as if he was about to cry. It was the first thing that Rodrick remembered his brother telling him he wanted. For the day Father would ask the King to call him Stark. 

"Thank you...Your Grace." Jon almost sobbed.

The Maester boomed, "All Hail His Grace, Rodrick the Red Wolf of House Stark and Tully, First of his Name, the Unknelt, King in the North and Trident, Lord of Winterfell, and Protector of the Realm."

Many days passed as the North began rebuilding its defences and marshalling their remaining armies for war from both directions. Rodrick set up a garrison of 3000 men to hold the Neck from any attacks from the south. He sent the wildligns to garrison Eastwatch and Castle Black as they were in desperate need of more men. Some of these reforms had their detractors yet the North still rallied behind their king. 

One day, there was shouting and King Rodrick looked up from his desk, curiously. Maester Wolkan came in and said "There is a boy at the gate, Your Grace. He asked for...Maester Luwin? And Ser Rodrick Cassel?"

Rodrick smirked, and said "It's alright. I know where my brother went.

Rickard was indeed alive, standing at the crypts where Father's statue was, though he was disheveled, more muscled and far different to the boy he remembered, going off to King's Landing with dreams of the Kingsguard like all small boys. The world returned a young man, broad shouldered and powerful.

"Do I have to say Your Grace to you now?"

"You'll get used to it." Rodrick smirked. "Where have you been little brother?" he clasped his brother's shoulders excitedly.

"A long terrible story. I imagine yours is too."

"You could say that much. Gods, Rick. You gave me a fright. I am truly glad you're alive, as Jon terribly missed you too."

"Jon's here?"

"Aye. He's Jon Stark now."

"Oh right, you're the King. I heard from my friend Hot Pie how you won the Battle of the Wolves." _That's what they're calling it?_ "How you rode in on a gigantic wolf and slew the Bastard with your left hand and kicked Karstark's head off with your right foot." It slightly pained Rodrick to be reminded of his dead wolf Lady. Lady had fallen in one of the first battles against the Drumms, butchered by cowards. For her sake, Rodrick never gave up, never stopped fighting.

Rodrick laughed softly, "Is that so? How much do you believe?"

"You're standing here, Rod. You must have done some of it."

"As you say." he laughed. "It does me truly good to see us together again."

"Where's Bran?"

"Off Beyond the Wall. He said it was important. He will return when he can."

They grinned at each other, before hugging tightly. He felt Rickard's warmth, despite all their coats of armor, and slightly blushed. But he shook his head of any such thoughts. _Now's not the time to want to fuck your own brother, Rod._

But it was too late as Rickard had seemed to notice, biting his lip. 

"I never imagined you'd be king, brother. I hope I can serve you well." Now Rod began to notice just how much Rickard was staring at his muscles.

"You always have, Rick. You always have."

As the snows fell outside of Winterfell, it was here in the crypts that new love bloomed. A brother's lips kissed his own, ever so sweetly, and Rodrick did not take off his crown. He didn't feel as if he had to, not for his Prince. Nor did Prince RIckard feel he had to do anything but softly show his love, for his king.

At last the Stark brothers were home again, united under their rightful king.

_The End._


End file.
